


Use Me (One-Shot)

by Darkpanik



Category: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, F/M, Light Bondage, Obsession, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, light gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkpanik/pseuds/Darkpanik
Summary: All it took was one night with him, and now he's become the bane of your heart. How much more of his cruelty can you take?Bi-Han (Sub-Zero) X F!Reader
Relationships: Sub-Zero (Mortal Kombat)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	Use Me (One-Shot)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to drag on about how or why this story is important to me. It's a bit personal and its a deep fantasy of mine that I'm willing to share.
> 
> Once again, this isn't a fluffy relationship with Sub-Zero. So don't expect it to be happy and cute. Read the tags.
> 
> Enjoy.

Since the moment you saw him, you knew that he wasn’t an average man. The muscular frame and chilling blue eyes made that perfectly clear. You didn’t know why a man like him was at the same bar or why he decided to sit next to you. He quietly sipped his pale drink, not paying any attention to those around him. Even with glower that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face; he was beautiful, in an intimidating sort of way. You couldn’t help but stare at him, admiring his face and physique. He finally turned his eerie eyes your way and smirked arrogantly, knowing fully well that you were gawking at him. That should have shattered whatever attraction you had towards him but it only made you more intrigued. You tried to strike up a conversation with him, tried to find out who he was, but he evaded every question with blunt retorts. You quickly grew frustrated with his cryptic answers and cocky attitude and didn’t realize he was leaning closer. That was when you noticed the _chill_. It was startling and should have made you end it there and then. That… _magic_ should have made you excuse yourself and leave the bar but instead…you let him pay for your drink and invited him to come home with you.

That night… he _ruined_ you. The moment he entered your bedroom, he stole every ounce of control you had. He _fucked_ you…so hard and so many times. He fucked you on every surface of your room, like he was marking your territory with his presence. It was agonizing. It was amazing. You were an incoherent, blubbering mess by the end of it. You shook uncontrollably from enduring his frigid might. He calmed and quieted you with kisses so tender and beautiful. A man like him shouldn’t have the ability to be that sweet, especially after being so wicked.

When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, leaving nothing behind. No phone number. No note. Not even a name. The groggy memories made the previous night seem like nothing more of a dream. The only evidence of the man’s existence was your aching body… and all the marks he left on it.

After that night, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You could still feel his touch like it was branded into your skin. No other man matched that feeling before. None even came close. The memory of what he did to you became too much and you tried to look for him. You kept going back to that bar, hoping the he’d be there in that same spot. Obviously, no such luck. Weeks passed and just when you considered forgetting him, he appeared. You came home from work one night and there he was…waiting in your living room.

At first, you couldn’t recognize him. He wasn’t wearing the same, average clothing front that night at the bar. He was clad in a blue uniform, with spiked, silver armor. Most of his head was covered with a cowl and a matching blue mask, leaving only his piercing eyes visible. Eyes that you recognized. The predatory gaze was unnerving and it made one thing very clear. He wasn’t just some stranger or mysterious man. He was _dangerous_ and he was in your house. And yet, when he held out his hand, you took it and let him lead you to your bedroom.

That was your relationship with him. He would come to you, in the dead of night and you had sex with him, only to have him leave without a trace. There was no word that could describe what he was to you. It didn’t sound right to call him your lover. It was a frivolous term that was so inadequate, so mundane. It didn’t fit what he was. You didn’t even know what to _call_ him. You asked him for his name, a title, anything, but he just responded with a curt, “It doesn’t matter.” When you tried to ask him again, he made you forget your question with a deep, dominating kiss.

It hurt you; the way he kept secretes…the way he kept _leaving_. He’d be gone for so long that you never knew if each visit was going to be the last one. It wasn’t supposed to be emotional. It was just sex. Just _casual_ sex. But every second he was gone, you ached for him in ways you’ve never felt before. You _hated_ him for it. And he _knew_ it. He’d give you that fucking smirk whenever he made his appearance and mocked your resentment as he undressed you. And you kept _letting_ him. You knew that you had to forget him. You needed to tell him to go away, just to save your heart from turmoil. But if you did, he wouldn’t come back…and you really had to move on, which seemed impossible to do with such a man. So you clung to him and you accepted his invitation to bed every night he came to you.

It’s been months now and he hadn’t made any visits. You gave up on going to the bar. He never came back there since the first time you met him. You didn’t feel any sudden drop on temperature at your house, which told you he hadn’t even creeped on you either. Eventually, you were convinced that he was gone for good, either moving on or…just dead. It was a grim thought, but him being gone was also a relief. The way he made you feel wasn’t good. Still…that dark part in your mind wanted to feel his cruelty again and wanted to hold onto whatever that relationship was.

Life had gone back to normal and you went to bed, not expecting any more wild nights. It was way past midnight when that sudden, familiar cold yanked you out from your slumber. You sat up and yelped at the figure standing right beside your bed. It was your ice man but he didn’t…look ok.

His blue garb was darkened with what you assumed was blood. His clothing didn’t appear to be ripped or punctured, so the blood wasn’t his. He killed someone. You knew it in your heart. He was a murderer and it nauseated you. You already had guessed that he did…dangerous work just from his appearance but he never appeared to you like this. Seeing the blood literally on his hands and the violence in his eyes made what he was that much more real and your heart pounded faster. You were scared. Slowly, you climbed out of bed and faced him.

"Are...are you ok?" you asked in a tiny voice. As terrifying as he was, the look in his eyes was concerning and you felt the need to comfort him. You reached out to touch his cracked mask but he caught your wrist. With his other hand, he grazed your lips with the tips of his frosty fingers. Being so close, you could smell the blood but you didn't dare pull away. He noticed and his eyes, for a moment, _softened_. You couldn't recall him ever looking at you like that before...

His fingers lingered over your lips, tracing the shape of them, then feathered down your throat to your chest. His knuckles brushed hard against your nipple and you shuddered. He could see them through your nightgown...

He wanted you but whether it was a good idea to indulge was the question. Your safety was…questionable, especially with that look in his eyes. He never harmed you before but he never…appeared in your home like this either. You reminded yourself that you knew nothing about him. He was a stranger. A _murderer_. So why did desire boil within you as he touched your breasts?

He pulled you closer by your wrist and pressed his temple to yours, his heavy breathing loud in your ear. He released your wrist to cup the back of your head while his other hand dropped down to your hip. He pressed close to you but made no other move, not without your consent. Regardless of his ferocity, he always waited for your permission. If you said no, he'd leave without a word. You stayed as silent as him, just to see what he'd do. That same dark part of your mind wanted him to take you regardless of your say so. You wanted to feel his brutal strength. You wanted to suffer his cruelty. You wanted to feel his kisses that were so sweet they left you feeling a terrible mess. You wanted to be taken, _broken_ and used in every way he could. It was a vile feeling and it disgusted you to the core. You needed to make a decision and as your teeth began to chatter, you made it.

" _Use me_ ," you whispered.

His hand closed, capturing your hair, and pulled, spinning you around till you faced your bed and shoved onto the mattress. He undid two of the belts that wrapped around his thick, hard abdomen, and fastened one around your neck. Your arms were pulled back and bound with the other. Your nightgown was yanked up to bare your ass to him and he paused, to take you in. Both of you were panting heavily, desperate and excited. Even with your head turned to the side, you could just barely see him. But you heard the soft rustle of fabric and you knew that his cock was out...

You felt your bed shift slightly when he climbed on. The weight of his body pressed down on you and you were enveloped in his icy aura. He grabbed the tail of his belt around your neck and tightened it, just barely allowing you to breath. You could feel his organ press against you as well, soft but hard and very cold. It made you squirm with anxious delight, and whine eagerly. His hand gently ran through your hair, a silent comfort. But that was the only reassurance he was going to give.

You gasped when he stuffed himself into you and moaned helplessly when he started his usual rough pace. The gentle hand in your hair tightened again, pulling your head back with every thrust, adding that sharp lick of pain to the build up of pleasure. Your sex clenched around him at first but loosened as he pounded you.

He fucked your cunt so hard you couldn't think straight. You could only feel him...his mask digging into the side of your head...his cold breath against your cheek...his solid, frigid body beating against you...and the belt around your neck, tightening. Your mind, already hazy from the painful pleasure, blurred even further as more of your breath was restricted. You heard the dark words he whispered in your ear but you couldn't understand what he was saying. His thrusts were so hard they should have broken your body.

That warm throbbing in your core built up more and more, wanting to spread through your body. You were close...but you needed air. He cut off all of your breath and it felt so good. Tears leaked from your eyes as they rolled up. You needed to tell him that you couldn't take it anymore. You needed to know his name…to scream it over and over again. But nothing came from your mouth but a pathetic croak.

It didn't matter though. He knew your body. He _felt_ how closer you were to your peak, so he knew how to make you fall. Just as you dove into your climax, he loosened the belt, allowing you to breath again. Air filled your lungs when the orgasm tore through you, making the sensation so much more intense. You writhed and bucked and screamed silently as it crashed through you in waves.

He had stopped moving during your release, allowing you to lose yourself in that agonizing moment of pure unbridled pleasure. As it ended, he started up again, fucking you much harder and faster than before. He didn't allow you to regain yourself. No. You told him to use you, and he was going to _use_ you till you couldn't stand it anymore and you couldn't have asked for anything more.

The belt tightened again, which cut your pathetic sobs short. Your soundless cries did nothing to stop him from working your cunt again. He needed his release but he wasn't going to cum without you.

It was too much already. You so desperately needed to breath but you also needed to cum, like your life depended on it. You needed it _more_ this time. You tried to beg to him but your overwhelmed mind and lack of oxygen made it impossible. And yet, even during all that mania, you heard his voice growl your name and that was the final thing that made you tip over the edge. As the second round of waves shattered through you, the belt tightened even further. He had yet to give you permission to breath. The thrusts didn't stop, which only added to that explosion inside your writhing body. He dragged you through the climax longer and you were engulfed in that pleasure. He finally tore off the belt, and you sucked in a huge gulp of hair, which only made you fall deeper into that dark euphoria. It felt like you were dying. Even with air in your lungs, you couldn't make a sound. You couldn’t do anything but just lay there, twitching uncontrollably, your mind gone, while he flooded your used cunt with his chilling essence.

He unbinding you some time later and gently pulling you to him, you couldn’t remember when or how. When you blinked, you were just laying in bed, in his arms. Your cheeks were wet with tears and your body shook with sobs as well at the aftershock of his depravity. You were too tired to do or say anything but lay there and allow him to pet you.

He was going to leave you again. That fact made this painful. It made the gentle caresses to your hair disingenuous. All those kisses and the softness you saw in his eyes seemed like a lie and you cried harder. His arms tightened around you. Did he enjoy this? Did he enjoy playing with your emotions?

You wanted to ask him again. For his name. You needed that at least. Just so you knew what to call him if he never came back to you. You couldn't just keep calling him a stranger even if that was what he was. When you had the courage to ask him again, he tipped your head back and kissed you...gently...beautifully… _cruelly_. You let out a shuddering sob and he hushed you, giving you another gentle kiss. Thoughts of protest faded, like always...and you allowed him to continue kissing you till you fell asleep…even though you knew that you would wake up alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT ASK ME IF THERE'S MORE. THERE ISN'T.


End file.
